


The Mistletoe truce

by Marber312



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: "build up", Becuase I can't help myself during the holidays, Changing Point Of View, Draco pov, Drarry, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Harry pov, Harry's luck changes and he starts getting stuck under mistletoes, He's not happy with whom the castle is trapping him with, I COULDN'T HELP IT, I'm Bad At Tagging, It's not really that slow., Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Mistletoe Drarry, Mistletoes, One-Shot, afterwards, but do they?, canon AU, don't know how to tag, dont really know which year this takes place, hate at first, shifting pov, they say they hate it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-17 20:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marber312/pseuds/Marber312
Summary: It's nearing Christmas and the Hogwards mistletoes has thus arrived. Nothing is out of the usual for Hogwarts at December, except for Harry.Harry has been luckily blessed previous years, not to get caught under the ever changing mistletoesbut now he can't stay in the same hallway as a snotty blond git without falling prey for their stupid magic.And the worst part? He's not certain he hates it. He's pretty sure it's getting worst each time, and with worse he means he likes it more. He's doomed.Draco Hates December at Hogwarts, or rather: he hates the mistletoes. Always have. He hates them even more when stupid Potter ruins it - as with everything else - making him hate them much less.





	The Mistletoe truce

**Author's Note:**

> So last christmas (I gave you my heart) I got the feeling to write some shamlessly ridiculous Mistletoe fic and Harry and Draco had burried themselves in my head. 
> 
> But as it wasn't finished until January: here it is! A year later, more in season.  
> It's just as silly as when I wrote it, but it made me smile and christmasy so here it is. 
> 
> Happy reading.

The mistletoes at Hogwarts were both a Christmas joy and a total disaster, all in one. No one knew where or when the ever appearing and disapearing misteltoes would pop up; some mistletoes stayed pretty much still and fixated in one place, like a regular mistletoe. Others spurred into existence at the most random times. And some seemed to tageted unexpected students walking the halls and disappeared as soon as they had they had appeared to trap the next unexpected victim.

Harry could understand why the teachers and headmaster kept the mistletoes around and only banished them from classrooms, dorms, and the great hall. There was never as much acceptance between the four houses as when the mistletoes made their appearance. The rivalery was never gone but there was a calm acceptance; a Christmas truce. The truce was not by choice; it was a necessity. Because of the mistletoes. Since the mistletoes popped up whenever, where ever, any one or any pair could be stuck under one. No matter if they knew each other; no matter which house they belonged to; no matter if they were in a hurry or just walking about; no matter if it was a crowded hallway or a decerted staircase. Only a selected few were spared the mercilessness of the mistletoes, but no one had ever escaped them. Everyone thus knew the feeling of being stopped by a mistletoe; the pull of magic keeping you from moving onwards. The barrier like feeling keeping you securely in place until someone came to the rescue, or you let your lips touch the the ones you had been stuck with. After a few initial days - with hysterical laughing at friends and burning cheeks of embarrassment when it happened to ones self-  the reaction to step back, kiss and move on became an automatic respons. After the first days of no one batted an eye. It didn’t matter who it was, it didn’t matter where it was, if it's someone from another house, or by someone you didn’t particularly like. It was a mutual agreement for all students: one did what was necessary, There wasn’t more to it; Fighting and complaining about it gain nothing, one did was was necessary. It was the Christmas truce. 

 

 

  
Harry had all his previous years been blessed - being one of the few people that rarely got stuck -. He guessed it was compensation for having an over-all shitty luck otherwise. Harry dearly hoped the luck would continue for the rest of his years at Hogwarts as he walked towards their transfigurations and saw a Hufflepuff boy and a Slytherin girl turn their heads as the Slytherin walked pass hurriedly and let their lips met briefly. The pair didn’t even stop walking and none of them looked happy doing it. The hallway was clambered with mistletoes. Two Ravenclaw boys had just touched lips with a roll of their eyes before continuing opposite directions seconds before. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Considering the amount of mistletoes and kisses and all other things Hogwarts Christmas included, this year was no different. Except for Harry. Harry was cursed. He was growing certain of it. This year the castle had decided to target him; it was out to get him. It made hall walking a heart racing experience and it put thoughts in his head he had never wanted to have. Harry hated it. And he especially hated the person who made him not hate it at all.

The first time it had happened Harry had thought it was a coincident. He, Ron and Hermione had been walking down a corridor on their way to charms, minding their own business when Draco had slammed his shoulder against his as he passed. Harry muttered ‘git’ under his breath, but continued walking along. They were running late. He walked but couldn’t get further than a step or two. He turned around surprised to see what the blond git was up to but was surprised to see Malfoy’s annoyed sneer; as if he was doing something. “What are you doing, Potter?” Harry didn’t retort since he hadn’t done anything. At Malfoy’s annoyed expression dread started to crawl up his body. _Oh, Bloody. Hell._ He recognized the pull. Painfully well. He cant remember if his eyes showed the horror that had crept up on him or if Malfoy had noticed the pull as well, but their gazes slowly travelled upwards at the same time. “NO!” Harry couldn’t tell if it was his or Ron’s scream that echoed down the corridor as he and Hermione turned around as he wasn’t keeping up. He heard Malfoy mumble ‘no, no, NO.’ furiously under his breath. Harry let the vicious plant go with his eyes and they fell upon an even more sneering Malfoy.

  
When Harry said no one complained he hadn’t accounted himself and Malfoy. They stayed the hell away from each other most of the time. If it could be helped they stayed at separate ends of a mistletoe infested hallway. They only shared the quickest shoves and shoulder slams; none long enough to be caught together. During all his years that had never happened. Harry was as angry as he was shocked that it had. Malfoy looked furious and Harry felt how his head was spinning, emotions in an uproar. He wanted to barf. He could punch Malfoy, absolutely, any day. But kiss him? Never in a million years had he ever anticipated that he and his sworn enemy and school rival would be stuck under a stupid, god forsaken mistletoe.

  
In his inner rant Harry had missed when Malfoy’s eyes left him to stare behind him. When he realised he was being ignored he followed Malfoys gaze and looked over his shoulder. The fiery stare was directed at Hermione. It wasn’t as abasing as it usually was, just intense. “For Merlin’s sake, get us out of here, Granger!” Malfoy barked. Harry wanted to snort. In the face of having to kiss him, even Draco Malfoy turned to Hermione Granger for help; depending on her vast knowledge of everything to help him out. He didn’t know how he should take the fact that Malfoy was more willing to be helped by a muggleborn than give Harry a peck on the lips. To their dismay she shrugged her shoulders. She bluntly ignored Malfoy but looked apologeticly at Harry. “Sorry, Harry. There’s nothing I can do. If you've read the History of Howarts you'd know the magic in the mistletoes are too old and too vowed into the castle to remove. It would take hours, if not days..” He heard Ron’s doubtful “Bloody Hell.” His best mate turned to Hermione whispering, all too loudly, “He’s really gonna have to do it, isn’t he? ” He felt how Malfoy’s stare intensified. Ron repeated “Bloody Hell” looking helplessly at him. They stood there in silence as the truth dawned on them before Hermione dragged Ron away. They had a class to attend to and they were already running late.

  
Both he and Malfoy missed their last class for the day since both refused to move. Harry had grown hungry after an hour and had taken a careful step forward. Malfoy had stared at him with such poisonous acid he thought he’d start corroding if he stood under the gaze to long. He had decided that was a stupid idea. “One step closer and I will punch you, Potter.” Malfoy’s voice was almost even more venomous than his stare. Harry stopped mid-step and they spent another 30 minutes in angry silence staring at each other with unhappy expressions. Pancy, Goyle, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna and Blaise had all told them to “for god’s sake just get it over with all ready.” When they found them cemented at the same place on their way to dinner. They had both sat down as far apart the mistletoe allowed Neither made another attempt to get out. 

  
When Harry’s stomach growled for the third time he heard Malfoy’s answer back. Harry was starving and it was getting cold and he just wanted to leave. The hallway was empty and even though Malfoy seemed reluctant the heated hatred seemed to have shimmered down the last hour. Harry stood up. Malfoy’s glare heated up again as he looked up from where he had put his head against his arms; arms resting on his raised knees. Harry let out a sigh. He just wanted to go to dinner and go to sleep and never walk in close proximity to the blond haired git ever again. “Come on Malfoy. Let’s get out of here.” Malfoy stood up. It looked like he was about to answer back but silenced. Stoic as ever the ass took one step closer. They were so close they almost touched noses and Malfoy towered slightly taller over him. They stared for a while; neither crossing the last distance to free them, but neither backing down from the challenge. Harry couldn’t really put a finger on why Malfoy always seemed to make everything seem like a competition. Harry stretched his neck, their faces getting ever so slightly closer but hesitated. They could pracitcally feel each others breath on their faces. He saw Malfoy’s smug sneer of a smirk tug at the left corner of his lips. One of his stupid pointed eyebrow riseíng ever so slightly. “Scared, Potter?”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and closed the gap. It lasted for the whole duration of a tenth of a second. With a blush blazing on his cheeks he rushed down to the great hall without turning around once. He stopped outside the doors for a short second to breathe. The small peck shouldn’t have gotten his pulse racing but his heart was beating furiously in his chest. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Malfoy hadn’t caught up to him as he straightened. He ducked his head down and joined Hermione and Ron, who were already done with dinner and pushing their desserts around. He knew people stared when he entered. He knew people knew he and Malfoy had been stuck under the mistletoe. He heard low ‘oohh’s from Pancy, but barely anyone else seemed to be interested. He knew no one particularly cared that he and Malfoy had touched lips, not more than snickering at the irony of it, but his cheeks was on fire none the less. They had brought even more attention to themselves by staying so late, almost missing dinner. He didn’t look once towards the Slytherin table that evening. Ron looked empathic and understanding. Hermione had to hold down her eye-rolls at the boys' joined distress over the evening’s event when Harry sat down to eat. Harry went to bed hoping to forget the peck but his mind relived it vividly until he was too disorientated to tell if he ever fell asleep when it was time to go up.

Harry had never before noticed how close he and Draco were when passing in the hallway, insluting the other. It started to dawn on him when they had kissed under a mistletoe for the fifth time in a week. It was also about the same time he realised the castle was doing it on purpose. He hadn’t gotten stuck this often any other year. What made him certain was the fact that he hadn’t been stuck under a mistletoe once with someone else. The damned plants turned up at every occasion he and Malfoy were in close enough proximity; when being pushed towards each other in the masses of students, when they passed each other in crowded hallways and staircases, when walking out after each other of a classroom. They tried to avoid it but no matter how far apart they tried to stay they still got caught by the damned plants as if they were plotting against them.

 

 

Harry felt the normal invisible tug and he felt a sigh roll from his lips at a far too familiar grunt. Malfoy. Again. “For Merlin’s sake.” Malfoy was in a hurry and frustrated now. He was probably late as he had been harshly stopped when he tried to run passed him. Harry waited for the usual argument and comments as he turned. They'd either insult each other or just stand and stare angrily, then Malfoy would wait for Harry to make the move, because Malfoy wouldn’t stope down to that level. 'He wouldn’t ever kiss Harry Potter, if they had to he’d be kissed'. As he had loudly proclaimed to Pancy particularly loudly one day. It was Malfoy's stupid way of insulting him. Harry was certain no one else in the universe had the capacity to make a forced kiss under a mistletoe an insult. It made him equal parts angry, annoyed and exasperated. Malfoy made everything worse, as usual.

Harry had barely turned around when he felt a firm grip around his cloak and collar and was tugged forwards. In the confusion of what was happening his lips rested far longer on Malfoy’s than usual as they stayed there until Malfoy, just as assertive and firmly as he tugged, pushed Harry backwards before stomping away in a hurry. Harry’s shirt was crinkled by the tight grip, and he stood in the corridor baffled. He had never thought about what it would be like to be tugged -to be physically moved - for anything. He’d just been manhandled by Malfoy, which was rude as hell. As he started walking he argued that Malfoy had only been able to do so because he had been too surprised to react. He found himself tugging at his shirt and cloak to straighten them several times during the day, sternly telling himself that he was doing so because he was upset Malfoy had just grabbed him, manhandled him, pushed him around; that stupid arrogant git. It had under no circumstances been in the slightest exhilarating.  No matter how much he straightened his shirt he couldn't straightened his thoughts. It wasn't as if he was growing used to Malfoy's soft lips. Definitly not. He was just in shock, unable  to process the utter horror he had just been through. 

 

Draco felt himself flee the scene. He knew others only saw it as hurry but he knew the truth. He adjusted his book-bag strap as he walked. He reached hisfree hand to his lips. He had no idea why he had done that. He wasn’t late enough to be that eager. He had just seen Potter turn around, had seen the lips he had kissed far too many times already - a little chappy from the cold weather and lack of care - and reached out. He hadn’t needed to. There had been no reason at all but he had pulled him close never the less. Potter had been too dumbfound to react so Draco had kept him there; close, lip-locked and eyes closed until he realised what he was doing and pushed him back to return to his route. It hadn’t been more than a second longer than usual but what made Draco’s heart pound in his chest was that he’d done it on purpose. For a fleeting second he hadn’t thought of the mistletoe, hadn’t thought of other students. He had kissed Potter to get out under the mistletoe but for a second he had kept him there, just because. It was terrifying and Draco promised himself to stay away from the black headed mutt. He was going delusional. Potter’s constant close proximity was turning him crazy. 

 

 

Harry tried to unsee the shifting grey in Malfoy’s eyes and the way he could read his emotions on his face. He tried to unsee the new points of views the mistletoes had enlightened him on. He tried to forget how soft Malfoy’s face and lips was as they touched his. He tried to unsee all the traits he had noticed so close up, traits he had so easily passed over before; traits that made Malfoy so Draco-ish. He tried to unsee how he'd smile amongst his friends and how he was actually good at potions. He tried to not wonder what Draco would be like if they weren't fighting all the time. He tried to ignore the way he had learnt to read his expressions. He tried  tell himself there was nothing attractive about Malfoy. He tried very hard and failed spectacularly. He just couldn’t unsee the traits that adored Malfoy’s appearance any less than he could escape the mistletoes.  
Harry sighed heavily unable to sleep and decided to give up. He had overcome worse. Being okay with kissing Draco, without insult, without jeers, jabs or threat? He could overcome that too. He’d stop fighting the castle and let it have it. Maybe if he gave in it would stop.

It didn't but Harry stopped trying to avoid the git. And when they inevitably got stuck he pecked Malfoy on the pass by. No insults, no bickering, no hesitation. It seemed to stump the blond as he stood and gaped as a fish long after, just staring after him in the beginning. It brought a weird sense of satisfaction that Harry had so efficiently stumped him. It was something he rarely had managed before.

 

 

Draco let go of insults when he realised Potter would just kiss him when they got stuck. The resistance from Potter seemed to have evaporated. Harry had stopped trying to stay away from him, which resulted in more kissing but with his new approach it was over a lot quicker. He had no idea how to handle such a compliant Harry. After three days of unheated Potter lip-meeting, Draco gave in too. It felt cruel to be mean to someone who wasn’t fighting back; not when they were stuck in the same situation and Potter was getting them out of it.  
The Draco-Harry kisses lost heat, lost the anger as it gained frequency. People talked about the change; how they didn’t seem to hate each other as much. Draco heard Ron ask Potter if he’d hit his head really hard after a week. Hermione nodded when he explaned that he just didn’t have the energy to care anymore. He didn't know how to take that so he ignored it.

 

Harry knew he had hit the low point of his life when he was okay with Malfoy’s lips on his. He refused to think of it more than I-don’t-care-enough-to-be-angry-anymore kisses. It was a ‘I have to’ situation, but the feelings which stirred when their lips met were starting to alarm him. They did pass-by kisses almost every day and Harry felt his lips soften thanks to the transferring lip balm. He at least guessed that was what it was. He might have started using some of his own when he had started to wonder how chapped his own lips must feel against someone else’s smooth ones. Not thinking about anyone in particular. He did though only use it in the privacy of his own room, or when no one was watching; he didn’t want anyone to get any ideas. No one could get the idea that he –oh god – made his lips soft for Malfoy. He wasn’t, but he was, still, indeed doing it. He shouldn’t care how his lips felt, but he couldn’t help it.

 

 

Potter’s lips had softened Draco noted as he sat down in the back of the gryffindor-Slytherin class, having kissed those lips just moments before. It wasn't a big thing, but he had noticed how must nicer Harry's lips had started to feel against his. He looked up from his notes and watched, as if transfixed how Harry sneaking lip balm out of his bag, looking as though he thought no one was watching. Draco suspected Harry didn’t want anyone to know he was doing it and for a moment he just stared. It would explain the softer lips. ... Draco stopped the oncoming thought dead in its tracks, not once wondering why Potter was doing it. Draco had no reason to care about Potters interest in self-care. Nope. None at all. They hated each other. It was a thought he was to never think again, because he didn’t care. Neither would he think about how, when Potters lips were softer, was a pleasant sensation against his own. They kind of fit well against his.

Draco straightened in his chair clearing his head with the abrupt motion. He was going insane. So much was clear. Being forced into such close proximity to his school enemy so often was screwing with his head. The Gryffindor-mush was transferring, poisoning his brain. It was all Potter’s fault. Potter and his damned soft lips and mistletoe kisses. He hated it.

Draco couldn’t get out of their transfiguration class fast enough. He had barely been able to concentrate, being so focused on keeping Potter related thoughts out of his head. It was taking a lot of energy keeping it void of thoughts. He had been so distracted some people  even noticed. If they were onto him? God, he’d have to leave the country due to the utter shame. Draco was among the first people out of the door but slowed down as he became one of the many students moving around in the hallways. Pancy caught up to him but she noticed his unwillingness to speak and just walked silently beside him. They didn’t talk between the other classes. He was in his head too much to have a conversation.

He was still kind of out of it, thinking about not thinking, when Potter passed him for the last class before lunch. He had noticed the black mess of hair, as unmistakably messy as always, as it came around a corner, but he didn’t spare it more attention. The trio seemed to be late as they were walking in a hurry, or he was dragging his feet, he didn’t care to ponder about that either. He tried to walk towards the opposite wall. He didn’t have time for stupid mistletoes. As he tried to step towards the wall he was shoved more towards the middle as Harry and his friends went around a big group of mingling Ravenclaws hanging outside their next classroom. He inwardly sighed at the irony. Here was what he was trying not to think about, marching right towards him. He rolled his eyes and tried to side step the oncoming collision but there were too many students. There was nowhere to go but straight ahead. Draco felt how he mentally gave up. There were nowhere to escape Potter. He saw dark hair come closer and Harry turned his head towards him as their shoulders were about to brush and he reacted automatically, leaning in as Harry leaned in, lips briefly touching, before both straightened and continued their separate ways.

Draco wanted to dropped dead of mortification when he realised he had automatically met up Potter's lips when he had leaned in to kiss him on the walk-by. Their kisses weren’t a big deal anymore, but this one had been different. This one had just happened. Automatically. Draco almost stopped in his tracks, rewinding the event in his head. Pancy stared at him in utter disbelief. He felt realisation and fear stab him in the stomach. He had gone on autopilot when Harry leaned in. He hadn’t even checked above them to see the familiar green and white. He had just followed Harry’s lead without question, without further investigation. He and Pancy walked slowly forwards. Pancy’s eyes never leaving him. Draco was becoming painfully aware that he hadn’t felt the tug of the mistletoe, at all, but tried not to show it. The realisation felt like a hit to the gut. He had just kissed Harry Potter back because Potter learned in. He had just reacted to finish the movement without a second thought. Without hesitation  “Stupid mistletoes” He mumbled under his breath - loud enough for Pancy to hear.  He told it confidently and nonchalantly enough to sound like he believed it. He didn’t. He hoped to Merlin that Harry had felt it pull or he’d have to leave the country. Draco wanted to sink through the earth; he wanted to be mauled over by a werewolf, eaten by a hippogriff. He kept his face calm as Pancy turned around and looked upwards. He followed her movements. There was no trace of a disappearing plant. He closed his eyes and prayed it had been there. Pancy nodded as if she had to convince herself his words were true. They walked to their next class in absolute silence. Draco wanted to believe his words too, for his own sanity, but he knew with steadfast horror that they weren’t. He had sunk so far he kissed Potter, _on instinct_. He should want to puke at the realisation, but the knot in his stomach wasn’t a knot of disgust. The knot was one of complete horror and panic. Utter mortification because he didn’t mind it at all. He had kissed Potter by his own free will; and Potter had kissed him on his own volition. He assumed it was a simple mistake. They had both reacted automatically, assuming what was comming. But it didn’t change the fact that they had kissed enough times for it to become an automatic respons. It didn’t change the fact that they had kissed for no reason at all. It didn’t change the fact that it had happened. And it wouldn't erase the fact that Draco didn’t detest it. It did nothing to stop the dawning realisation that Draco wanted to do it again; mistletoe or not. He wanted to kiss Potter again. The panic that thought evoked made his heart throb so hard he thought he’d throw up.  
He tried to act as if the kiss was nothing out of the ordinary to Pancy; that it had just been the necessary evil he had to deal with every day. He tried to act like his inner realisation hadn’t turned his feet to ice and his head to a shattered mess. He felt horror ripple through him as his mind raced on. It felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He wanted to know how it would feel to really kiss Harry, not the lip touching they had been doing. He wanted to know how Harry’s tongue felt against his. He wanted to know how it felt kissing Harry when Harry wanted to kiss back. Draco locked himself in his dorm without dinner that night. He would never act on such stupid notions but it didn’t stop them from popping up in his head; no matter how hard he tried to force them away. He valued his life. He was positive Harry would find a way to kill him if he tried. The new feelings were like a stone in his shoe. It was impossible to ignore. If placed right it was not so bad but if it moved it turned to a repeated ache. A constant nagging in the back of his head, but there was nothing he could do about it. Draco went to sleep with a groan, trying to suffocate his problems with his pillow.

 

Harry felt how he dreaded the conversation he had decided to have with his friends that night. He couldn’t hold it all in anymore. He needed someone to talk to. It didn’t though mean it was going to be easy. He had slowly walked over to his friends, whom were seated on a far too public couch in their common room. He balled himself up as tightly as he could, pillow in a tight grip when he sat down. His friends stared weirdly at him and he wished he hadn’t decided to confess. He buried his face in a pillow as if it would make the embarrassment go away.   
Ron was warm, and Hermione was gentle when he started speaking. It was one of the worst conversations he’d ever had. And he’d had a conversation about Voldemort coming back. He had a fricking crush on Draco Malfoy. It was humiliating and awkward and stupid and his best friends had already guessed as much. Harry felt his face turn even redder. It had been so obvious that they had already guessed as much. It made Harry want to sink through the earth.They tried to calm him by saying they knew him very well and others most probably hadn't. It still felt like he’d die from the embarrassment alone. He wanted to, because if he died he wouldn’t have to deal with the fact he had a crush on git extraordinaire: Draco Malfoy. If he were dead he wouldn’t have a ridiculous desire to spend time getting to know him. If he were dead he wouldn’t want to snogg the living hell out of him. It was so confusing it was painful. Where had it all come from all of the sudden? He buried his face deeper into the pillow. His friends patted his shoulder, telling him it was fine; sometimes things like this happen. But Harry didn’t understand why all bad things happen to him. Why couldn’t his love life be simple when the rest of his life was so utterly fucked? He felt his friends’ eyes on him. They were waiting for the other half of the story. Harry hated how well they knew him. How they knew it was more than just his stupid crush he needed to talk about.

He slowly started explaining what had really happened during their walk to their charms class before lunch and how it had felt like being struck by lightning. It felt like he was going to have a heart attack as he forced himself to speak. It felt like his heart was about to explode. He squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. He hadn’t even looked up when he saw Malfoy getting closer. He had just jumped into the situation, believing in the back of his mind that the mistletoe would show up as it usually did. But it seemed like it hadn’t and he had been too focused on the blond to even notice. He had been too excited about the prospect of kissing Malfoy he hadn’t noticed he didn’t have to.  
It looked like Ron didn’t know what to do with his confession but he was ever so supportive, even though it was Malfoy; whom they had hated even before they started their first year at Hogwarts. Harry pushed the pillow away from his face to lean his head against the backrest. “What am I supposed to do?” He looked to his friends helplessly. He felt so utterly screwed. He felt his gaze drift to Hermione. She usually had an answer for everything. “Maybe you should just try it, like for real?” Ron suggested. For a second he just gaped at the ginger. “RON! I can’t! He’ll kill me!” Harry thrusted the pillow back against his burning face. The suggestion had sent a jolt to his spine in ridiculous excitement but he knew what Malfoy would do to him if he tried.It wasn't going to be pretty. “Well, how will you know otherwise?” Ron continued. “He’s kind of right, Harry,” Hermione added. Even she was betraying him. "You two have always been less talk more action kind of people. The best way to find out is by action. He’ll never sit down and just talk to you about it,” Hermione gave him another gentle pat on his shoulder. He hated how blunt his friends were being. He hated it even more that they were probably right.

Harry and Draco stayed as far away from each other as they possibly could afterwards and every time Harry saw the particular blond hair in a corridor his face flushed red and he tried to get as far away as he could. He managed to avoid the blond that way for two days. One time He had been stuck in the small tower staircase and Draco had been about to met him but he turned around and walked up the stairs again. Ron kissed him on the cheek to free him.  
No matter how much Harry actually to kiss Draco he knew Draco would suspect his want if they actually did. He was, to say the least, terrified. Draco was, to Harrys great disappointment, not avoidable. He, Ron and Hermione had to pass Draco and Goyle in one of the narrower hallways four days after the incident. Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand and mumbled, “Kill me, now.” His face wanted to blush but he could feel the colour drain from his face as they walked onwards, towards the eminent passing. He held Malfoy’s gaze as soon as he saw him from across the hallway. Draco’s grey never left his; his face unreadable. The world slowed down as they stepped right next to each other, passing shoulder to shoulder. Both turned their heads sideways to continue holding each other’s gazes. Harry’s nerves were all over the place and then the world resumed its normal pace. He had to turn his head forward as they kept walking in opposite directions. He had, for the first time in three weeks, not been stuck under a mistletoe with Malfoy when passing him. Harry slowed down after a few steps and turned around, his mouth slightly gaping. He shouldn’t have but he did. The nervousness that had spiked in his heart tumbled into pure disappointment low in his gut. Ron and Hermione looked at him apologetically as they waited patiently for him to continue walking. He stared at the blond, walking down the hall and he couldn’t really place his feelings. Then Malfoy cast a glance over his shoulder and for a second grey caught green. Harry swirled around and rushed away. Malfoy knew! Malfoy knew he had kissed him without being under a mistletoe! He knew! But why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t he retaliated yet? Why hadn’t the rumours of the famous Potter’s infatuation spread like wildfire yet? He let the wonder. the loud questions and the confusion drown out the dread that filled his gut: Draco knew he wanted to do it again.

 

For the first time ever Potter had looked at him, really looked at him, and seen him. The vibrancy in his green eyes had been so bright they burnt. Emotions were displayed clearly in those green pools and his face portrayed his thoughts loudly. And for the first time neither hadn’t been clouded with anger, hate, annoyance or competition when looking at him. It felt like Potter’s eyes had pierced his heart, penetrated every wall he’d ever put up and he hated it. He also wanted it to happen again. He wanted Harry to see him, see him as a regular person, just like he had for the last week when their kisses had turned casual without restrain. He didn’t want to go back to being hated. He didn’t want to argue, fight or hate Harry again. He wanted to be seen. Just like that, again. His heart thudded harder when he saw how Potter stared after him. It was only by pure restrain he didn’t turn around but turned his head back, staring emptily ahead. He had been surprised when nothing happened. He had also been disappointed. He wanted to know, to feel, if something had changed after that accidental kiss. He wanted something to have changed and he just lost his opportunity to find out.

Hermione and Ron had done their outmost to keep his mind busy with other things to stop him from thinking about Malfoy. They had done such a great job he didn’t even notice who he was about to pass in the doorway of the great hall when he walked in for dinner. He felt the push pushing him backwards as he tried to enter. His head snapped up seeing the small mistletoe. He looked to the side, seeing a just as surprised Draco. They only stared surprised at each other for a while and Harry couldn’t tell if it was in his head or if the hall quieted down. Draco was pushed towards him further as Pancy, Crabb, Goyle and Blaine pushed their way behind him muttering: “Get it over with Draco. We’ll be in the common room,” before they continued on their way. He felt Hermione push at his back and he took a tiny step to the side, closer Draco, so they could walk behind him into the hall. Both she and Ron shrugged their shoulder. Ron had an expression that pretty much told him: Just go for it! as they walked towards the Gryffindor table. They were stuck in the middle of the entrance to the great hall and everyone was staring. It seemed like everyone wanted to see what would happen. They had all great seats to see what kind of conflict would erupt between them. Or if something else would happen. It felt like everyone had, to some extent, heard about the Potter-Malfoy kissing development and wanted to see if the rumours were true. Harry wondered if any of them knew about the not-under-a-mistletoe-kiss. He wondered if they had notised the same things his friends had.

  
Harry glanced to the side to make sure no more students were coming towards them to enter the hall; his heart beating faster knowing what was coming. He knew they had no other choice but his toes tingled anyway. He straightened and cleared his throat as he turned to face Malfoy. Draco mirrored his movements and Harry was hyper aware of the few inches he lacked to be as tall as Draco. He didn’t know if he had started moving or if Malfoy was, but his face was getting closer. When he felt Draco’s breath on his face he closed his eyes. He felt a traitorous hand reach out and grip Draco’s waist. His hand was out of sight for anyone in the great hall, hidden behind them and their draping cloaks but he knew Draco felt it. His spine tingled with fear and nerves at the action. The kiss wasn’t long but long enough for his mouth to betray him as well as his mind was elsewhere occupied; trying to froce his hand away from the other man. He felt his mouth move on its own accord. His stupid, disobedient, idiotic lips moved ever so slightly against Draco's. The kiss was short enough to not seem like anything particular to all those who were watching but long enough to ruin so much. Harry retracted his hand from Draco’s cloak clad waist and hurried towards his friend, face blazing, cursing himself stupid for his stupid Gryffindor do-first-think-later genes. He expected a crucio in the back as soon as the kiss was over but he made it to the Gryffindor table safely. He dared a glance over his shoulder and saw a seemingly unfazed Malfoy turn around and walk away in his usual gitty and elegant way. But Harry had seen something in the short glimpse of grey eyes. There was something else brewing underneath. It wasn’t well controlled fury; he would have been hexed senseless if it was. It was something else. Something that made his heart beat faster in his chest, bursting with hope. His friends gave him encouraging smiles as he sat down. Some of the other Gryffindors went up to pat him on the back in consolation with words like: “man, they got you good this year.” “That must have sucked,” some laughed further down the table, cheering teasingly. Harry tuned them out as he pondered what he had seen flash in Draco’s eyes. He tried to ignore the knowing gleam in Hermione’s eyes and Ron’s inquisitive eyebrows. He had other things to think about.

 

 

Draco went straight up to his room. He didn’t bother trying to sit with his friends and pretend everything was normal. He didn’t have the energy to spare to seem like his usual self. He wanted to sit quietly on his bed and think about what the hell Harry Potter had been doing, caught under the mistletoe, kissing him like he actually meant it. Pancy whined at him as he passed but he ignored her. “Come on Draco! I know you’re angry about the stupid being-kissed-by-Potter but don’t let his disgusting mug ruin your night!” He hadn’t been angry before but he felt it flare. Harry wasn’t disgusting, especially not his face. He had never been. He didn’t say that outlooud. He only continued to climb the stairs to his dorm. He had specifically said: being forced to be kissed by Harry was disgusting, when it started happening. Not that Harry was. He flopped down ungracefully on his bed and with a flick of the wrist closed the curtains around his bed. He closed his eyes and put his hands against his eyes, hoping to clear it of the image of Potter’s closed eyed, pouty lipped face slowly coming closer. He had closed his eyes when he stared seeing double and then he had felt the hand on his waist. He had opened his eyes but Harry’s were still calmly closed. Draco had been about to break it off in utter surprise when he felt Harry’s lips move against his. He had been shocked frozen and Harry had pulled away directly afterwards and walked off without even looking at him. Draco had stared in disbelief and bafflement. He had wanted to reach his hand up to his lips but had refrained from doing so, there were too many people. He had looked over the hall, all eyes had been at them and some were still staring at him. He had pushed his shoulders back, straightening his back, his nose tilted upwards in the way he knew the Gryffindorks hated and turned around after a last look at the golden boy. He had quickly looked away when he was greeted by an intense green stare and had walked off. He had stopped in an empty hallway to try and push his heart back into his chest. His legs had turned wobbly and he had leaned back against the closest wall. He hadn’t realised what he was doing until he heard voices coming around the corner. He had straightened and his hand shot down from his lips as two Hufflepuff girls came into sight and he quickly continuing walking.  
His legs still felt wobbly, even sitting down on his bed. His heart wasn’t trying to leap out of his chest anymore but it was still pounding erratically and his fingers had, without his permission, sneaked back up to his bottom lip. What was Potter even doing? Was it a rouse? Was he trying to mess with him? He had surely succeeded doing that. Was it a joke? Had Harry figured out his heart leapt at the sight of him, but not in instant anger anymore but something else entirely? Was this a plan to make him look like a fool in front of everybody? Was this some evil master plan to use Draco’s own stupid, idiotic crush against him to crush him once and for all? Draco shook his head. Harry was too much of a Gryffindor to do such a thing. He turned around with a groan and buried his head in his pillow. Why was his life so complicated? Why did it have to be Harry freaking Potter of all people?

 

Draco freaking Malfoy. Harry was too mortified to fall asleep that night. He had kissed Draco. That in itself wasn’t news, as of that December, but he had gripped his waist and let his stupid mouth run free. Which resulted, as usual, in getting him in trouble. He was screwed. He had practically signed his own death warrant. Why couldn’t he just control himself around the blond git like a normal person? Why did all his self-control toss itself out of the window as soon as the blond idiot was around? He had given Draco plenty of reasons to dislike him in the past. He’d given him a few really good ones for him to hate him, but now? Now he had given him a free pass to torture him. He knew Draco had picked up on his slip up. His body had acted before his mind caught up and then it was too late. He had been thinking about kissing the git far too much. He had though reasoned that he shouldn’t give the prat a reason to torture him further. He just had. He wished Draco would just take the chance and end him the next time they saw each other. The speculating was torture. Harry tried to hide his burning face in his hands as he tried to sink through his bed. God, he was such an obvious idiot it hurt. And he knew his obviousness was about to bite him in the ass. He was sure of it.

Harry avoided Draco like the plague afterwards. He even had his invisibility cloak in his bag for emergencies. He had to use it once, which according to Hermione was one time too much. He had though been surprised with the lack of heat Malfoy was shooting him the next day and the day after that. He caught Draco stare at him a few times but he didn’t think much about it as he focused all his energy on avoiding the blond. He couldn't put his finger on _why_ Draco hadn't done anything when it became obvious Draco wasn’t going to do anything horrible to him, physically. By the time Harry had worked up enough courage to face him four days later the git seemed more pissed off than he had ever seen him. Harry's courage diminished as grey eyes went ablaze whenever he saw them. The intensity was almost scary as Draco’s face was kept unreadable. It was unlike anything he had ever experianced. He had never seen Draco as contained furious before, and it was all directed towards him. The castle blessed him by not locking him under mistletoes but as the hours ticked by, and the heat in Draco’s eyes grew until Harry believed he’d self-combust, he knew the peace was short lived.

Draco couldn’t tell why his blood boiled seeing Harry’s weary expression as he soon as he saw him. He couldn’t help the rising heat as Harry couldn’t hide the red tint to his cheeks in embarrassment when he laid his eyes on him. He knew Harry had been avoiding him. He had succeeded surprisingly well too, which meant he was really trying. At first, Draco tried to shrug it off as his own imagination, but the more evident it became that Harry was avoiding him the harder it was to contain his anger. It was Harry who had kissed him; not mistletoe-kissing him but kiss him, for real, with a grip on his waist in front of almost everyone. And he was avoiding him? He guessed the shattering hope he held onto, the hope that the kiss meant something more, fuelled him as Harry continued to ignore and avoid him. Draco was replacing his wonder of why Harry wouldn’t notice him anymore with anger. Anger was easier to deal with. Whenever he saw the black mop of hair the heated feelings flared. The higher his heart leapt the more anger he tried to replace it with. After a stunt like that he was entitled to answers. Answers he wasn’t getting since Harry was **avoiding** him. A few times it felt like Harry was about to confront him, or at least just acknowledge him; see him, but then he backed away. Looking frightened in a way he hadn’t seen before. Harry Potter had never backed away from a confrontation before. He wasn’t going to start now. Draco waited. He gave the boy who lived the weekend to snap out of it before he’d snap for him. He had gotten a super awkward peck on the lips on day saturday, but Harry practically ran away afterwards. Draco had been so shocked - he had practically been jumped with suddenness of it - to react. It only made him angrier.

When the weekend were up he went out to find Harry after their last class for the day. Harry would not weasel his way out of this one. He’d hunt him down if he had to. If he knew Harry right he’d be held back after potion class – he always was; which would leave him alone going up to the Gryffindor tower afterwards. Draco had easily lied to his friends, telling them he was picking up a book from the library. They went ahead and he quickly headed towards the fifth floor where he knew Harry would pass after class. He didn’t know what he was going to do or say but he didn’t care. He didn’t usually go into situations without a plan but by the anger he felt he knew that if Harry didn’t tell him what the hell he was doing, he’d punch him in the face. It was as good of a plan as any. With determent steps he set off towards the fifth floor and waited.

  
Harry had been the very last person from their potion class and was walking through empty corridors towards the common room. He had been held back after class by Snape, as always. He had mopingly sent Ron and Hermione ahead. He hadn’t been great company during the day and he had for once earned the lecture he was getting. His friends had grown tired of his never-ending moaning and moping by lunch so didn’t blame them when they scurried off in a hurry when he told them to leave. He walked slowly, letting Hermione and Ron enjoy the moping free time without him; Giving himself extra time to wallow in self-pity even further. The hallways were empty, which they usually were this time a day. He almost jumped in frigh when his name was called in a cold snarl. Even though he had heard his name in the same snarling voice a million times it made his heart jump. He twirled around and was faced with an angrily stomping Draco coming towards him. “Potter,” Draco practically growled his name out. His grey eyes were furious. His otherwise pale face was reddening in anger from bellow his collar upwards. Harry had never thought about the fact that Draco’s colour came burning from his chest before. Harry snapped his eyes from Draco’s collar to his face. He felt his own cheeks flush, being, once again, caught so obvious; caught ogling him of all things. He had an utterly pissed off Draco marching towards him and all he could think about was how he’d look with his shirt off. “What the hell is your deal, Potter?” Draco practically spat out his name and Harry felt his hope falter. There were so much hate to his name alone that he didn’t want to know how much Draco hated him as a person. His heart hurt just thinking about the rejection he was sure was written on Draco’s face as he looked up.

Draco could barely say Potter anymore. He had to force the word out as his mind had rebranded him to Harry. It was the name he surely mumbled in his sleep and it was the one name he wish he could use but knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed to. He and Harry weren’t close enough and it made the name dig deeper and deeper in his head. He hated it. He felt his gut drop as Harry’s face turned angrily red at once, stepping up towards him; facing him head on, just like when their arguments turned into fights in the past. There was no trace left in the green eyes of the warmth he had foolishly made himself believe he’d seen before; the sliver of wanting to know him better. “I should ask you the same, Malfoy,” Harry said his last name as if spitting acid. It was something foul and disgusting. It hurt worse than being punched in the face. Draco knew he’d never hear his name fall warmly from Harry’s lips in the way he called his best friends. It was something he’d never have. It was a part of Harry he’d never know. But it still hurt.

Malfoy. Harry hadn’t called Draco that in his head for days, for weeks. He hated it now. It wasn’t his real name, but he couldn’t use anything else. He wasn’t allowed to. Draco would punch him if he did. Draco wasn’t a name Harry had the right to use, and Harry had already broken so many of their old patterns; he couldn’t break another. Using his first name would tell Draco all he needed to know to ruin him. He wasn’t ready to give him that power. He wanted to be able to but he realised with a heavy heart he never would. Draco’s eyes had hardened and he couldn’t see anything else but fury in them. He guessed he had only imagined the questioning curiosity in them before.  
He saw Draco raise his hands as if to strike and he closed his eyes, waiting for the blow. No matter how angry he got he knew in his heart he couldn’t hit Draco. Draco could beat him to a pulp and he would still not be able to lift a finger against him, not anymore. He’d push him back but he wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on him. The feeling was almost as scary as realising who he was falling in love with. Harry wasn’t though backing down. He felt the familiar heated anger boiled his blood as he didn’t understand what was going on. Frustrated that nothing could ever be simple. He just couldn’t gather enough of it to use.

  
Draco’s hand were inches from impact. To Harry’s surprise it gripped his cloak. He opened his eyes as the hand clutching his collar pulled them closer together. Draco was so close. He could feel his breath on his face. His first reaction was to push Draco off to get the demanding hands off him, to widen the distance between them, before he did something stupid. Instead of pushing his chest, his hand reached up to Draco's neck to cup his cheek. He felt his hand grip Draco’s waist, keeping them only a breath apart.  
The blazing fire between them raged on - slowly burning hotter - as if they were readying themselves for a duel. Then the intent shifted as their eyes met for the briefest moment. Harry was slammed backwards against the wall. Draco’s hand, braced, tussled in hair, kept his head from hitting the wall. Draco pressed his lips to his and he pulled Draco by his waist closer. There were hot hands wandering. Messy mouths aligning, pressing and moving against each other. The intensity in which he was kissed made Harry’s toes curl and he kissed back just as forcefully; just as hotly. They pushed and pulled and kissed until they couldn’t breathe and stopped, gasping for air. “What the…” Harry didn’t bother to continue the sentence as Draco’s lips came into kissing distance again. Somewhere along the way their legs had tangled as they tried to press closer and closer. It was heated and messy, just like it always was and had been between them, but oh, so much better. Harry had no idea what they were doing or how it had turned so suddenly into this, but he didn’t care. The kiss he was receiving wasn’t anything like Harry had ever imagined a kiss being. He had thought he knew what a good, blood boiling kiss was but he had been sorely mistaken. On the other hand, no one had ever made his blood boil quite as hotly as Draco. He felt Draco’s breath on his lips and slowly opened his eyes for green to meet grey. “I thought you hated me,” Draco’s grey eyes were weary but hopeful as he wondered outloud. He looked as vulnerable as Harry felt. “Obviously not.” came out in an airy whisper and lips and hands descended onto each other again.  
Harry’s face was burning when he returned to the Gryffindor tower. They had snogged for so long in the empty corridor they were almost caught by a teacher going to dinner and they had rushed off with their clothes in tangled messes from all the groping. They had stopped after a few corners as they needed to part ways. “Potter.” Harry had looked up to see uncertainty in stormy grey eyes. “What, Draco?” Whatever question Draco had been about to ask dispersed. Uncertainty fled from his eyes. He found himself pulled close. Draco’s hot tongue twisting around his before being abruptly let go, far too soon. Draco turned swiftly and with a sly smirk over his shoulder headed towards the basrment. “See you later, Harry.” Harry stood dumbfound staring even after Draco was out of sight with a puzzled and goofy smile on his lips.

Harry tried to act like the new kisses weren’t affecting him but he far too soon caved in. The new kind of kisses and the removal of animosity between them had opened his eyes to new feelings he had no idea he could have. He couldn’t keep his lips off Draco and he couldn’t seem to keep his distance, even when he tried. He tried to avoid the blond to seem normal but he seemed to be drawn to him like a niffler to gold. He hadn’t realised how he had fallen for the stupid git during their stupid weeks of kissing and how he was falling even deeper as he slowly started to get to know him. Harry didn’t care if people noticed that the kisses grew longer. He didn’t care if people noticed he sometimes kissed the git without perhaps being under a mistletoe at all. He didn’t care if people noticed if they snuck away during breaks. Harry didn’t care his friends rolled their eyes a tear him as he took out his invisibility cloak almost every night to go and see Draco. He didn’t care if eyebrows were raised when he forced Draco to sitt with his friends. He didn’t care if someone saw them holding hands under the table and shooting each other glances. All he cared about was that he was getting to know Draco better and most of all; that Draco was falling just as hard. He wouldn’t wrap his arms around him during cold evenings and he wouldn’t make him feel so ridiculously happy otherwise.


End file.
